Asher
She was straddling my lap, a knee on either side of my thighs, her core pressing ever so slightly over my growing erection. I wanted to fuck her. As soon as she’d walked in through that door, I’d wanted to fuck her, though the promise of bad news had stayed that desire. But then she’d told me and… It wasn’t such bad news. It wasn’t the end of the world as I’d presumed based on the look on her face.
She was pregnant.
It was startling. It shocked the hell out of me and left me reeling, but it wasn’t like she had cancer or something. And once the worry that there was something seriously wrong had left, the desire returned. That pretty little corn silk blue dress. That bouncy ponytail. Those little kitten heels. And those tits. Full, round, perky and shaped in the most perfect heart I’d ever seen. I wanted to hold them in my hands, to squeeze them and weigh them in my palms. I remembered them being soft but firm, the perfect feel.
Though I could tell she was turned on, too, her panic over the possibility of this baby was greater than her desire. And now… Now I knew she wanted to get rid of it.
I didn’t know why it bothered me to hear her say it. Until about five minutes ago, I hadn’t even known her name. Carol. It was a sweet name. It suited her blonde hair and her blue eyes, but I had the feeling it was short for something. Another thing on the long list of things I didn’t know about her but found myself wanting to know.
I told myself my interest wasn’t all that serious. I was infatuated because she was one of the best lays I’d had—certainly the best I’d had in years. And that lingering familiarity from the bar, I reminded myself. She was familiar, and maybe I didn’t like mysteries or feeling as though I didn’t have all the information.
I told myself it was because she was hot and I was horny and stressed out. I told myself it was all kinds of things, and maybe it was, but there was a basic, primal attraction there that was mixing with an unusual urge to protect her.
My hands lingered on her full hips. Birthing hips, I thought, though I didn’t share that with her. I didn’t think she’d appreciate it just then.
“I see,” I finally said, not sure what to say.
Her delicate eyebrows pulled into a frown. “It’s the right choice. I mean, it’s not like you want a baby and I have school in the fall—” She broke off abruptly like she was trying to work through her own issues with the whole situation.
Of course she is, you idiot. She’s pregnant from a one-night stand!
Clearing my throat, I tried to help her out. “Look, you don’t have to get rid of it. I mean, there are… options. And I’m here.”
Her eyes widened a bit and, for a moment, I had shocked her speechless. “You’re here?” she repeated incredulously. “What do you mean by that? And options? What? To raise my baby here with you? Like you would want us.”
My hands slipped from her hips to her rear, pulling her closer to me. I caught the tiniest of gasps, telling me she noticed, but otherwise she didn’t make any note of it. “I’m just saying you don’t have to get rid of it. Maybe you should think about this a little bit. Consider other options.” I squeezed her perky ass, unable to help myself, wishing that we weren’t talking about getting rid of an unwanted pregnancy and instead doing the very thing that had led to it.
This isn’t about sex, I admonished myself, but even as I did it, I couldn’t deny that I wanted her. It was like I had a one-track mind when it came to my sexy little Carol.
Her expression spoke volumes about what she was feeling, the conflict written across her lovely features. She sucked on her lower lip; it drew my attention immediately, desire coursing through my veins, but my reaction was more tender and less lustful, a surprise for us both.
I took one hand off her ass and moved it to her cheek, cupping her face. My thumb moved slowly and gently stroked her lip, freeing it from her teeth. I looked at her in all seriousness and said, “Don’t make a decision yet. Take some time. Think it over.”
She looked at me as though maybe she’d never seen me before, seriously considering what I was telling her. I thought for a moment I’d won her over and convinced her, but then she shook her head. She pulled away from me, planting her hands firmly on my chest and pushing. She got up off of my lap, her absence immediately noticed and greatly missed, my hard-on throbbing with want for her.
Shaking her head, she played with the end of her ponytail, reminding me that though she was a woman, she was young, too. Very young. “You don’t understand. It’s not really about what I want—I don’t know what I want. But I don’t have a choice anyway. My father would never be okay with this. He would disown me as soon as he found out about the baby! I’d be kicked out of the house with nowhere to go.”
Her voice was rising in volume, the panic plain in it now. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and I saw tears brimming. Instantly, I was up and off of the couch. Crying women were not my strong suit, but I could remember my mother and comforting her when things all seemed to go wrong. I could remember that sometimes just having someone there was enough.
I hoped it would be now.
I went to her, placing my hands on either of her delicate shoulders, stepping close enough to her that I felt her body heat radiating off of her. She smelled sweet like flowers, reminding me of our night together and how desperately I had wanted her.
A baby was not what I had planned for my future. Even though I’d been considering settling down lately, this was not what I’d had in mind. I’d been thinking a partner and maybe eventually a baby, but not all in one fell swoop. And certainly not in the shape of a nineteen-year-old woman.
She was barely a woman at all! Old enough to screw, but not old enough to deal with the consequences, I realized belatedly. But while I was lucky enough to have the option of just walking away from the whole thing, she did not. She was stuck, bound by her situation, and I was starting to realize that all her family’s money—because I knew they had it, even if I didn’t know which family was hers—wouldn’t fix the mess she’d gotten herself into this time.
I hadn’t been looking for someone to take care of, but here she was on my doorstep, and I couldn’t turn her away. “Carol, give me a week. Don’t tell your father, don’t tell anyone, but give me a week. Let yourself think about this and let me show you that there are other alternatives.” Even I wasn’t sure what they were at this point, but they were there, and there was a strange stirring within me that made me want to tell her I was one of them.
I couldn’t be sure, but I had to find out and to do that, I needed time.
She was shaking her head. “You don’t understand, if my father finds out—”
“He won’t.” My tone was firm and decisive. “He won’t find out, and you won’t stay with him anyway. You’ll stay here, with me. Until you decide.”
She stared at me then, surprise written across her features. She seemed unable to figure out what to say in response to that. But I could see her mind working, considering, thinking it over. Uncertainly, she asked, “Why are you doing this? Why would you want this baby?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t really sure that I wanted this baby—in fact, I probably didn’t—but I didn’t want her to get rid of it either. It was my responsibility either way, and if in the end, she decided she didn’t want it, then I would support her, whether I liked it or not. But I didn’t want her to make some rash decision because she was scared. Maybe if I could get her away from her father for a little bit, she might have some space to breathe and think. Maybe she could realize what she really wanted, whatever that was.
As for me, well… If it came down to it and she kept the baby, then maybe I’d keep her around. Maybe she could be my ticket to making the Anarchy’s Horsemen view me as the kind of leader they wanted to follow. Maybe she would be the “settling down” image that I needed. At least for a little while. Once I got things under control with them, maybe we could figure out a different arrangement.
You can’t use her like that, I thought, berating myself, but I figured I was as much entitled as she was. She’d used me that night, and she was here only because she wanted money, nothing else. I would do her a favor; she could do me one, too.
“I just want you to have a choice,” I finally said, pulling her to me, so we were pressed together, reminding me of the need she always seemed to bring out in me. “And maybe I want you to think of me as one of those choices.”
She thought about it a moment longer, then she put her hands on my waist and stood on her toes so she could reach me. She pressed her lips to mine and kissed me, uncertain and gentle. I was the one who turned it into passion. I held her close to me and pressed my mouth against hers hungrily, sliding my tongue along her lips to ask for entrance. When she parted them, I dove in to taste her again, her flavor just as sweet as I remembered.
When we broke apart, I told her, “Stay with me. Just for a week. Then, if you still want to get rid of the baby, I’ll take you to do it.”
She nodded once. “Okay. I’ll stay, just for the week.”